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by fog_mind



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crying, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter is 8, Sad!Steve, Superfamily, Upsetting fic, War feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:53:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fog_mind/pseuds/fog_mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Steve wants to do is go home to his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyy everyone, this is my first fic poster on anything really and comments would be appreciated. tell me if you liked it or if you want me to write you a fic or whatever. I wrote this listening to Home by American Authors, go give it a listen. It's a good song. 
> 
> Anyway, on with the fic! <3

All Steve wants to do is to go home. 

He's sick of the long, hot days spent spent fighting against a force that will always be there. No matter what they do, evil will always be there and when SHIELD start to realize that, the better. He wants to be home in Stark Tower, being held by the man he loves as he listens to his little boy talk about his day at school. He wants to be holding Tony as he sleeps, just listening to him breathing would be enough for Steve, just knowing that he's okay. he wants his family.

But Steve knows he isn't going home for a long while. He's going home in another five months. If he's lucky, he'll be home for Peter's birthday in August.

But luck isn't really on his side.

***

 

Steve wakes to a cold sweat, nightmares still pounding through his skull, his breathing heavy in the dark tent. He scrubbed a hand through his damp hair and tried to calm himself. He had got used to the nightmares but tonight's were different. They're usually of the war, all the bloodshed he has seen throughout his years and time here in Afghanistan. The nightmares were about his family. What if he died out here? What if he never saw Peter off to highschool? Or off to his prom or graduation? What if he never saw his and Tony's fiftieth wedding anniversary? Or Tony's fiftieth birthday? All these Steve would miss if he died out here in the sand hills.

Reaching under his pillow, he pulled out a old picture of the three of them at Disney Land. They had gone there for Peter's seventh birthday. He and Tony both wore matching grins as Steve carried their little boy on his shoulders while Tony had an arm around Steve's waist. Little Peter sat on top of Steve's shoulders, holding on to his poppa's head and waving to the camera. Two shiny bands stood out on the two men, plain gold bands but they meant the world to the men. The people in the picture were happy, smiling.

Steve didn't think he'd cracked a real smile since he left the tower six months ago.

He thinks of how Tony looked when he had told him he was being sent out again. He thinks of how angry Tony was with him, how furious he was when he screamed that Steve had broken his promise. His promise never to go to war again. Steve let him be angry, he let him yell and shout at Steve. He let him throw things and break the nearest thing by throwing it into a wall. He let him storm away down to his lab. Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget how heartbroken Tony really was.

Steve remembers walking down to Peter's room finding the little boy crying because his daddies were fighting. Peter never liked it when Tony yelled. Steve remembers scooping the little boy up in his arms and telling him that daddy was just upset that poppa had to go away for a while. Peter had asked why, why Steve had to go and Steve couldn't answer him, letting tears slide down his cheeks, pulling his son close and telling him how sorry he was. Steve remembers how scared Peter had got when he had started crying, asking if he did anything wrong, asking if it was his fault poppa had to go away. Steve just smiled sadly and told him that it wasn't his fault and how he had to be a brave boy for poppa while he was away.

That was six months ago.

He remembers holding Tony for the last time, kissing him softly before getting on the plane. He remembers their faces when Steve last waved to his husband and baby boy. He remembers how hard Peter was crying and how Tony was trying to hold back. He remembers it all.

It was only six months ago.

***  
  


Steve woke to the sound of gunfire and explosions. He fumbled for the lamp, rolling out of bed and pulling some boots on. He grabbed his shield and a pistol. Glancing around the room, he saw none of the men from his squadron where in their beds. A frown pulled at Steve's lips as he slowly left the tent. He saw fire. That was the first things that hit him. Fire and smoke, a lot of it. Steve started coughing, he hadn't coughed this hard since he was a small child with asthma poisoning his lungs. He started to run, run from the fire and smoke, helping a few fellow soldiers up and to safety on top of the hill they were stationed next to.

Steve heard more cries from the camp and, being the American Hero he was, went back into the inferno. He helped more soldiers up and collected what he could from the blase, water, blankets, food. All things they'd need. Steve went to his tent, trying to grab a rucksack and get what he can. The faded picture from under his pillow, his old sketchbook, a letter from Tony. All things he would need. 

He left then and went back to the soldiers on top of the hill, waiting for someone to realize what had happened. One of the soldiers had a radio and Steve called for help. They couldn't possibly continue the mission. Not when this had happened. He cast a look upon the soldiers. red faced, still coughing, tired. he called for help until someone replied telling Steve they'd be sending someone out as soon as they could.

Steve suggested they sleep, he'd stay awake and watch and wake them if anything happened. Hours passed before the helicopters showed up. The wounded got on first, taking a good half of the soldiers before the rest coming back for them. Steve gazed out the window the whole way back to civilization. They passed over the Middle East, they passed over Africa, well parts of it. They passed over Europe before finally arriving on American soil where soldiers wives were waiting for them, hugging and kissing them as they got off they got off the plane. 

Steve smiled weakly to them as they passed him, thanking him for his help. He had said it was a pleasure to more women he could count. As he turned to walk back into the base he heard a distinct cry of "Poppa!" before turning around and seeing little Peter running over to him. Steve sank to his knees and caught the boy as he flung himself at him. He rose, still holding Peter close, tears sliding down his cheeks as another body crashed into them. He felt two arms wrap around him and wet patches appear on his shoulder.

"Welcome home." Was all that was said before he embraced his husband, missing his other half for so long. Holding Tony close with one arm and Peter on the other was all that Steve needed to realize that he was finally home after six long months.


End file.
